


metal and dust

by forteken



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crime, Angst ish, M/M, Piano, these tags give nothing away i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 10:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12651348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forteken/pseuds/forteken
Summary: He's there again.There's a man, a waiter, Jaehwan thinks, if his shirt and waistcoat are anything to go by. He said his name was Sanghyuk.He stays, sometimes, watching Jaehwan play, watchingJaehwan. His gaze is heavy, weighted- Jaehwan just hasn't yet figured out what with.





	metal and dust

**Author's Note:**

> basically, i play the piano and thought 'oh hey, I kind of want to write a story including a pianist' and now this exists fucking bye
> 
>  
> 
> title: metal and dust - london grammar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> word count: 10,300+

Bright lights twinkle over his head, blurring into a warm golden on the shiny black surface of his piano, and Jaehwan smiles to himself. It’s a small, private little thing- fleeting, but that’s okay. Jaehwan keeps it locked up for himself, thoughts running a million miles an hour as his hands drift over the keys. It’s thoughtless, effortless, calming.

It’s a stark contrast to whenever he embarks upon learning a new piece, and all the aching fingers and long frustrating nights that go along with it. Sometimes he wonders if it’s worth it, the bittersweet struggle to wrap his fingers around the new melody, when they just won’t get it _right_. When he’s gone on so long that his mind goes flat, where it should be sharp, focussed. He wonders this every time, and will continue to, but the undiluted satisfaction of completing a new piece outweighs it all.

He loves the simplistic pleasure of having played a piece so many times that no thought need be lent to it, that his mind can drift off into silly, meaningless little places, as his fingers continue to dance across the keys. 

Jaehwan feels his hands slow upon the notes of the familiar piece, and he comes back to himself, slowly. He blinks his eyes open, just a fraction, letting them adjust to the soft glow of the room, the people walking by.

He’s there again.

There’s a man, a waiter, Jaehwan thinks, if his shirt and waistcoat are anything to go by. He said his name was Sanghyuk.

He stays, sometimes, watching Jaehwan play, watching _Jaehwan_. His gaze is always heavy, weighted- Jaehwan just hasn’t yet figured out what with.

Sometimes he keeps his distance, smiles at Jaehwan after every completed piece, from across the room. Sometimes he’s close, errant fingers dancing across the body of the piano, voice deep and rich and melodic in such a unique way that Jaehwan can’t help but crave it, at times.

Today, it’s the latter, and Jaehwan watches complacently as Sanghyuk strides over the room, and comes to rest his elbows on the piano, leaning over to look down at Jaehwan.

Jaehwan tries to look at his softly lit features, his metallic blue hair- rather than the fact that he’s leaning all over a Steinway that probably costs more than Jaehwan’s apartment.

“Funny seeing you here.” Sanghyuk says, and Jaehwan ducks his head, smiles a little. This time his smile isn’t fully his, isn’t private, and Jaehwan wonders if maybe it should be.

“Hello Sanghyuk.” He lets his fingers brush over the keys, gently pressing down, but not enough to make a sound. Sanghyuk tracks his movement, and then lifts his eyes and grins down at him.

“You looked so… _focussed_ , today. More than usual.” Sanghyuk says, and Jaehwan raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well,” he nods, “I’m focussing.”

“Me too.” Sanghyuk’s tone implies that there’s more to it than that, like a child that has a secret he’s desperate to share. Jaehwan’s too curious not to ask.

“On what?” He keeps his voice quiet, as not to disrupt the little moment they’re sharing, surrounded by the rushed energy of the hotel restaurant. He chances a glance up, and startles a little when he finds Sanghyuk staring at him. It’s strange, considering he already knew he was.

“Many things. I’m a busy man you know.” Jaehwan scoffs, and Sanghyuk throws his head back and laughs. It’s low, but the energy in it cracks across the room.

“A busy man that has enough time to lurk around my piano?” Sanghyuk nods earnestly and Jaehwan can’t help but smile. He tilts his head a little, sensing there’s more to it. He’s caught up enough in Sanghyuk that he doesn’t mind asking. “There’s clearly something else you’re dying to say, so, tell me one of the things that’s on your mind. If it’s interesting then maybe I won’t report you for getting fingerprints all over my piano.”

He tacks the last part on a little late, and Sanghyuk huffs in acknowledgement, but makes no move off the piano. _Strange_ , Jaehwan thinks, again, but he doesn’t care enough to follow it up.

“You.”

Jaehwan feels his smile wobble, and his hand slips off the keys and into his lap. “What?”

“You’re one of the things on my mind.”

Jaehwan feels uncomfortable, for a little while, and oh how he wishes he didn’t. Sanghyuk didn’t say anything worthy of such a response- but maybe that’s exactly the point. Jaehwan doesn’t know _how_ to respond, and he doesn’t want Sanghyuk to know this.

“Ah.” He deflects his stumble with humour, and he hopes Sanghyuk doesn’t see right through it. “You must be having a pretty boring night then.”

Sanghyuk sighs, a little- it was probably supposed to go unheard, and Jaehwan winces.

“Quite the opposite, actually.”   

Sanghyuk smiles at him, then, slightly, and it’s not quite pity, but something in it makes Jaehwan’s toes curl in his shoes.

“I’ll see you later.” He takes a step back, and Jaehwan feels the bubble around them crack a little, hears the clanking of cutlery seep back in, “okay?”

“Okay.” Jaehwan whispers, and keeps his eyes on the smooth white of the keys as Sanghyuk leaves. When he looks down at his hands, they’re trembling.

 

♭

 

He doesn’t come back.

Well, not for a few days at least. Jaehwan looks for him, at times, and pretends he doesn’t at others.

Today it’s late, debatably, and Jaehwan stares down at his watch, and then back up at the mirror, sighing. Usually, he loves his job, loves skating his fingers over the keys of the expensive grand, letting the busy atmosphere of the hotel restaurant wash over him.

He lies, occasionally, when people ask why he loves his job so much. The atmosphere, the people- the ease of it. None are outright lies, not really, but in reality, Jaehwan just loves the piano. The nine foot Steinway that he’ll never have the capacity to own, in neither space nor budget. It’s a simple reason, self-explanatory and kind of obvious, if you ask Jaehwan. But he still keeps it to himself, a secret he doesn’t need to keep.

All of this is why Jaehwan convinces himself that he doesn’t notice the absence of Sanghyuk, doesn’t _miss_ him. He absently reaches up, deft fingers loosening the chokehold his bowtie has on his neck- and then chokes for another reason entirely when Sanghyuk pushes the bathroom door open and walks inside.

There’s a moment when their eyes meet, out of time, but then a grin breaks out across Sanghyuk’s face. Jaehwan’s following exhale is shaky, weighed down by a relief that he didn’t even know he was holding. He was scared, he supposes, that he’d broken a part of what was between them. Which is strange, considering he’s not even sure if there’s anything there to break. 

“Jaehwan! Long-time no see.” Sanghyuk calls to him, and Jaehwan bites at the inside of his cheek, turning back to the mirror and slicking back his hair a little more.

“It’s only been a few days, hasn’t it?” The forced nonchalance doesn’t even taste sour on his tongue, Jaehwan is pleased to note. “Did you miss my beautiful playing that much already?” He wonders if he’s overdoing it, if his words are running over into the territory of flirtatious. He wouldn’t mind, all things considered, he just wonders why he always starts things that he doesn’t have the capacity to finish.

Sanghyuk reaches where he’s standing, eyes sparkling as he makes a so-so motion with his hands. Jaehwan huffs in response.

“Have you been off for the past few days?”

“Off?”

“Yes,” Jaehwan frowns, “you work here don’t you?”

Sanghyuk stares at him through the glass of the mirror, eyes intense, but the look lasts for no longer than a second. “Oh, yeah, of course. I had a few days off, other commitments kind of thing.” He recovers from the slip up quickly, too quickly, and Jaehwan wonders why he thought to call it such. Slipping up implies Sanghyuk has something to hide, and Jaehwan really doesn’t want to read that much into anything. It’s good to break bad habits.

“Lucky bastard.” He goads, and Sanghyuk shoves him with his shoulder. “I haven’t had a day off in months.” He tacks on a sigh at the end, and Sanghyuk rolls his eyes.

“Poor thing. I’m sure sitting around doing something you love to do is agonising.”

“Gosh, thank god you get it.” Jaehwan lowers his hands, thinking there’s only so many times he can adjust his suit without looking like he’s buying for time. Sanghyuk hasn’t made a move to leave either, though, so Jaehwan thinks he can allow himself a few more seconds.

Sanghyuk smiles when Jaehwan finally turns to look at him, and it’s warm. Jaehwan feels it seep through into his very bones.

“So, enlighten me, why are you loitering about in the bathroom? Don’t you have a job to do?” He structures his tone so it’s teasing, perhaps overly so. It’s either that or coming across as rude, and Jaehwan knows which side of the spectrum he wants to be on.

“Wow,” Sanghyuk laughs, raising an eyebrow, “I could ask you the same question.”

“You could. But then I’d have to tell you that my shift doesn’t start until 9. And it’s currently…” Another glance down at his watch informs Jaehwan that it is, in fact, 9.07pm. “-fucking _hell_.”

This time when Sanghyuk laughs, it’s loud, strong, and he tips his head back, a hand coming up to grab onto the nearest sink. Jaehwan sneers at him, and tries to hide the haste in which he walks – runs – over to the door.

The meaningless chatter of the restaurant floods in once he wrenches the door open and steps outside, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the lilt of Sanghyuk’s voice. “Goodbye, Jaehwan.”

 

♭

 

Uneventful, would be the only way to describe the last few weeks. He’s working on learning a new piece, but anyone he talks to about it deems it ‘irrelevant’ information. Jaehwan hasn’t been sulking. Not all the time.

Sanghyuk comes and goes, when he’s not on his shift, Jaehwan guesses. He’s nice to talk to, albeit being a little stressful. Jaehwan feels as though he’s been handling it well enough, however, especially after his slip-up a few weeks ago.

Today, though, there’s someone else watching him.

It’s not that no one ever spares him a glance, it’s just that said people are usually elderly couples who appreciate his playing more than anything else. But the man who has been staring at him for the majority of his shift is decidedly neither of those things- _Sanghyuk_ , is neither of those things.

Jaehwan tries not to take much notice of it, tries being the keyword. He could almost fool himself into thinking that the man isn’t affecting him, that he really doesn’t take much notice of him. Yet, as the final hour of his shift drags by, he finds it just that little bit harder to lose himself in his head, to stop his foot bouncing on the floor, jittery.

Eventually his shift does end, and Jaehwan makes a beeline for the bar. Hopefully alcohol will help dispel his nerves where even the piano could not.  

He sits alone and works his way through most of his drink, until the sharp stare is enough to slice through his skin, and he bleeds. This time, he finds it considerably easier to feign nonchalance, so much so that he’s not sure it’s entirely fake. Jaehwan takes another sip of his drink, and tilts his head towards the stranger. He’s dressed smartly, but not overly so, and his hair is dark like his clothes, parted slightly just off centre. He looks good, and it’s clear he knows it, so Jaehwan refuses to display the same sentiment.

“Do you need something from me?” Jaehwan tries for disinterest, slight irritation maybe, but it just comes off as tired. Close enough.

The man smiles, eyes falling almost shut, _sly_. Jaehwan thinks he hears him chuckle a little under his breath. “No.” He says, and Jaehwan is equal parts impressed and annoyed by the confidence in his voice. “I’ve just been watching. Listening.”

Oh. Jaehwan doesn’t know what to say to that. There’s something off, he knows it, but thus far he has nothing to accuse him of. Jaehwan wonders if maybe he shouldn’t start every new encounter with suspicion, no matter how well it’s served him in the past.

For now, though, he’s weary right down to the overworked bones of his fingers, so he decides to give up, if the man has nothing more to say on the matter. He’s still staring, but no new words spill from his lips, so Jaehwan nods once and turns back to his drink, content to finish it and then leave as soon as possible.

The man clears his throat, then, and Jaehwan hunches his shoulders up.

“I did enjoy hearing you play, though. You’re very talented.” Jaehwan’s mouth falls open on a thank you, but the man speaks cleanly over him. “But mainly, I came to see the pretty little pianist Sanghyuk’s been so infatuated with.”

Jaehwan’s stare is as blank as his mind in that moment. “What?”

The man smiles again, but there’s something behind it this time. “You heard me.”

“So,” He decides to try another angle, “you’re Sanghyuk’s friend?”

A nod is all Jaehwan gets in return, and he has to bite back a sigh. “And you are?”

“Cha Hakyeon.” His delivery is instant, rushed, as if he has been waiting to be asked the whole time. He seemingly has. “What’s your name, then? You haven’t introduced yourself to me yet.”

Jaehwan frowns at this, but quickly moulds it into mild astonishment instead; he’s found it’s far more agreeable. “You don’t already know? Hakyeon shakes his head once, so Jaehwan continues. “Then how did you know who you were talking to? If Sanghyuk didn’t give you my name?”

“Well,” Hakyeon says, “I still don’t know now, since you haven’t told me.” He lifts his drink, swirling around the amber liquid, and then takes a sip, making Jaehwan wait. “So whether I knew your name or not, it wouldn’t have made it any easier to find you.”

This time, Jaehwan doesn’t bother holding back his annoyance, lets the air leave his lungs in an irritated huff.

“Fine.” He spits back, eyes narrowed, “Lee Jaehwan.”

Hakyeon tilts his head in acknowledgment, mouth popping open to speak, but this time it’s Jaehwan who doesn’t let him.

“So how did you know how to find me? You’re right,” damn it, “you didn’t need my name, but still, how would you know you had got the right person?”

“The boring answer is that I didn’t.” Hakyeon shrugs, and Jaehwan rolls his eyes.

“What’s the non-boring answer then?” He regrets asking almost instantly, when Hakyeon grins.

Hakyeon sits up in his seat then, craning his head back, eyes scanning the rapidly emptying restaurant. Jaehwan follows the action half-heartedly.  

“I don’t know the place, so please do correct me if I’m wrong,” oh how Jaehwan hopes he’s wrong, “but I can’t seem to spot any other young, attractive pianists playing here tonight.”

If it was any weaker, the glass in Jaehwan’s hand would have shattered.

“That,” Jaehwan stumbles over his words, “I- that was-”

“Smooth? Charming?”

“ _Shit_.” He manages to choke out.

Hakyeon laughs at that, head thrown back. It’s loud, a tad obnoxious, annoyingly _not_ annoying. 

Jaehwan throws his head back too, but no musical laughter erupts out of it. Instead, he gets only the rough burn of alcohol sliding down his throat at a velocity he’ll regret later.

He slams his glass back down, and levels Hakyeon with a glare that should have him backtracking, but he simply grins instead. Jaehwan grinds his teeth together, one leg jolting forward and banging against the wood of the bar.

“Okay,” Jaehwan gulps, voice a little scratchy from the pleasant sting of alcohol, “you’re Cha Hakyeon and you know Sanghyuk. And you’ve been bothering me for the past-” Jaehwan flicks his eyes down to his watch, making sure subtlety is the last thing on his mind, “nine minutes or so. Anything else I should know?” Jaehwan knows the antagonistic tone of his voice is bolstered by alcohol, but he doesn’t particularly feel like checking himself. Not with Hakyeon.

“Not really.” Hakyeon looks as though he’s holding back a laugh, and, if anything, it only serves to piss Jaehwan off further. “I’ll let you know if anything pops to mind though.”

There’s a ‘don’t’ on the tip of Jaehwan’s tongue, but he swallows it down and shuffles back around in his seat. He can feel Hakyeon’s eyes stick to him for a few more moments, but then they detach and drift off elsewhere. Jaehwan can’t say he misses the heat in them. The silence stretches out between them, for a pleasant few seconds, and Jaehwan curses at the fact that eventually, he’s the one to break it.

“What did he say?” He keeps his voice low, as if the quieter it is the less embarrassment he’ll feel. His efforts go unappreciated, however, when Hakyeon laughs his musical laugh again, and Jaehwan feels his cheeks burn from something that isn’t the alcohol.

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who’s acting like he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“I’m not acting.” Is what Jaehwan blurts out in response, way too rushed. He hates how much of a child he sounds, and hates how desperate he is to know what Sanghyuk said. So he pretends instead that the only thing he hates is Hakyeon. “But you can’t expect me not to be curious.”

“No,” Hakyeon lilts, pursing his lips, “I guess not.” The grin is back. “Doesn’t mean that I can’t tease you for it though.”

Jaehwan’s sigh is shaky, and his fingers are white where they clutch onto his glass. Hakyeon’s eyes flick down, and he sees, of course he does, and lets up a little. Jaehwan’s too irritated to say he appreciates it.

“He didn’t say much, don’t worry,” Jaehwan perks up at the opportunity to find out, eyes not quite meeting Hakyeon’s as he bites at the inside of his cheek. “Mainly just what I said earlier.” Hakyeon gestures with his hand, vaguely, as if fishing for the words, “that he’d met a pretty pianist that works here. He didn’t really say anything that wasn’t along those lines, but lord did he go on about you.”

Jaehwan feels something squirm low in his chest. “Oh, I- _”_

“He told me I should come listen to you play.” Hakyeon says, and this time Jaehwan finds he doesn’t quite mind the interruption. “Should come and see you.”

“And?” Jaehwan asks, voice soft, as he looks up at Hakyeon through hooded eyes. He’s _nervous_ \- and he hates it.

Hakyeon smiles more genuinely at this, pleased that Jaehwan is finally playing along.

“Well you are a pianist,” His eyes rake down, scratching against the fabric of Jaehwan’s clothes, and Jaehwan flinches back a little. The force of Hakyeon’s eyes is almost tangible. “And you’re certainly pretty.”

It’s a compliment, Jaehwan knows as much, but the way Hakyeon says it makes him feel something that’s not quite gratitude. He can’t quite place it, though, mind gone fuzzy around the edges.

“Ah.” Jaehwan says, “thank you?”

“Are you sure about that?” Hakyeon laughs at him, and Jaehwan wishes he could take it back.

“Fine, no then.” Jaehwan snaps, too harsh and not harsh enough in the same breadth, “keep your opinions to yourself.”

Hakyeon stops laughing, but the smile is still plastered across his pretty face. “You wound me.” He sips at the last few drops of his drink then stands suddenly, and Jaehwan can’t help following the motion with too slow eyes. “Well, I have somewhere I need to be, so I’ll stop bothering you for now,” _for now_ , “goodbye, Jaehwan.” 

“Bye.” Jaehwan mutters, and Hakyeon leaves.

His chest feels tight, and he wishes he knew why.  

 

♭

 

Jaehwan had always found chandeliers tacky. Granted, the only ones he had been accustomed with were gaudy, covered in plastic jewels, way too large for the room they were in. They were always too obvious, he thought, about trying to add a level of class to something otherwise normal. Where there should be shining gems, they were instead embellished with dull plastic that, if anything, sucked in more light than it reflected.

The chandeliers in this hotel, however, are something else entirely. He remembers the way he stared at them when he was first given the job, eyes wide and sparkling with the glittery lights as he walked through the corridor. They hang from the high ceilings, coated in tiny little diamonds, sprinkling down in delicate threads, scattering a soft light over everything under them. Jaehwan was, quite frankly, in awe, and he finds that the feeling never really left him.

Today is no exception, as he finds himself focussed with a trance-like intensity on the lights above his head, rather than the steps he’s taking. They capture his entire attention, which is probably why he startles so violently when large hands clap onto his shoulders and a deep voice rumbles ‘boo’ in his ear.

“What the _fuck_ -” he spins around fast enough to make himself dizzy, and it takes another few moments after that until his eyes focus on the person stood in front of him. “Sanghyuk.”

“Jaehwan.” Sanghyuk says, voice bright where Jaehwan’s was breathless, “How have you been?”

“Fine.” Jaehwan sighs out as they fall into step beside each other. “I’m pretty tired. But then again, that’s always so.” Jaehwan shrugs, let’s himself trail off simply.

Sanghyuk laughs a little, with a nod, and the silence is as comfortable as Jaehwan could ever wish for. Which is why he’s not entirely sure why he always insists on ruining it.

“I met your friend the other day.” He blurts, biting at his lips immediately afterwards, as if trying to contain words he didn’t know were trying to escape. “Hakyeon.”

He sees Sanghyuk look at him out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t look entirely surprised. This irks Jaehwan in a way he didn’t know it would.

Jaehwan waits for a response, held back words burning holes into his tongue- until he realises Sanghyuk is doing the same. This startles him into stopping, and Sanghyuk catches on almost instantly, coming to stand in front of him, hands stuffed into his pockets.

Jaehwan is so far at a loss that he doesn’t know how to gain back his words, his composure.

Hence why he scowls, crosses his arms over his chest, petulant in a way he knows he’ll be embarrassed by later. “Hakyeon?” He tries to sound a little less incredulous, but it doesn’t work, “Cha Hakyeon. You do know him, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Sanghyuk says, low, and Jaehwan doesn’t know if that’s better or worse.

“He said some things.” Jaehwan softens his tone in tandem with Sanghyuk’s, shifting a little in his spot.

Sanghyuk’s eyes brush over him, efficient, and he sees the slight hunch of Jaehwan’s shoulders, the grip he has on his arms, fingers white around the edges. Sanghyuk sighs, rubs at the side of his face. “Yes. He always does.”

“He was-” Jaehwan winces, _why can’t he get his words out-_ “he was flirting with me. I think.” Again, Sanghyuk doesn’t look surprised, but he does stiffen, just a little. Jaehwan doesn’t quite know why he’s telling him this. “Which is fine, obviously, I just- you know how I can-”

“Jaehwan,” Sanghyuk shakes his head, cutting through Jaehwan’s words like a knife through butter, “it’s okay. You don’t have to-”

‘He talked about you.” Jaehwan overrides, “too. He said you…said some things.”

Jaehwan risks a glance up, eyes glittering with an apprehension that he despises. Sanghyuk is looking straight back at him- and there’s something foreign, unreadable, in his eyes. Jaehwan wonders if bringing this up was a mistake.

Another sigh. “He always does.” Sanghyuk repeats, but then something clicks into place, and his eyes focus with a precision that sends shivers up Jaehwan’s spine. “What did he say?”

“Oh,” Jaehwan jerks back a little, doesn’t know why he assumed Sanghyuk would know. But shouldn’t he? “It wasn’t anything much, I-”

“Jaehwan.” Sanghyuk warns, and Jaehwan bites down on his lip with a force that stings.

“He said you thought I was talented. At playing piano. That’s all, really.” Jaehwan mutters, _lies_.  

“Yeah,” Sanghyuk frowns, “but I thought that was obvious.” Jaehwan blinks, slowly, but Sanghyuk doesn’t give him any time to recover from the compliment, to respond. “That wasn’t all he said, though. Was it.”

He’s so sure, so _certain_ , that he doesn’t bother phrasing it as a question. Jaehwan wishes he had, wishes that he could find something comforting in the lilt of confusion, something familiar.

“He said you said I was pretty.” Jaehwan whispers, and his blood vibrates inside his veins, thrumming against his skin as he forces himself to maintain eye contact.

Now Sanghyuk does fall silent at this, but one eyebrow raises, seemingly subconsciously. “Ah.”

“’ _Ah_ ’?”

“Ah.” Sanghyuk confirms, shoving his hand into his pocket, and a smile slips back onto his face. This one is a little softer: gentle, but still teasing, along with something else that Jaehwan can’t quite put a name to. “I also thought that was obvious.”

Jaehwan splutters, he _splutters_ , and he feels so unsettlingly similar to the way he did with Hakyeon those few nights ago. He’s flattered, partially, but there’s something about the way they both speak that blindsides him. He finds he can never pin down why they say these things, or when they will, or where their intentions lie- and it terrifies him in a way he’s not accustomed to. He feels himself getting defensive, and hates that he can’t fully justify it. Not yet.

“It- I mean it wasn’t _not_ obvious, but it wasn’t-”

“It wasn’t?”

“That’s not what I said-”

“So it was.” Sanghyuk grins, and Jaehwan quite feels like hitting him. “At least, I do hope it was.” Jaehwan’s cheeks burn and he glares very intensely at the carpet.

“Maybe a little,” Jaehwan acquiesces, and then immediately regrets it when Sanghyuk’s smile only grows. He needs to gain back some of the ground he’s losing. “Hakyeon, though. Hakyeon was obvious.”

Sanghyuk laughs. “Yes. He often is.”

“ _Why_?”  

“What do you mean ‘ _why_ ’?” Sanghyuk laughs again, but this time it’s confused, and his head tilts to the side slightly. Jaehwan doesn’t know whether to count that as a victory or not.

“Just- why?” Jaehwan knows he sounds irrational, but he really doesn’t know how else to put it. “He’s so forward, and that’s not always a bad thing, but- but I don’t even know him, and he only knows of me through you. Why would he come and find me? Or say all the things he said? It doesn’t make any fucking _sense_.”

“Hakyeon never makes much sense.” Sanghyuk shrugs, “not to anyone, I don’t think.” He sounds- tired, almost, and Jaehwan thinks it’s rather fitting. “Why are you so flustered over it, though?” Jaehwan frowns, and he doesn’t think Sanghyuk notices. “Has no one ever told you they find you attractive before?”

Jaehwan was about to launch into another tirade, but stutters to a stop. He struggles to take another step forward, as if his blood has turned to ice, but instead it’s boiling hot in his veins.

That wasn’t the point, and Jaehwan knows it. _Sanghyuk_ , knows it.

“You- you’re both the same.” Jaehwan snaps, and he can’t really tell how much of it is playful. Sanghyuk seems to take it as such, though, an eyebrow raising in amusement. Damn him. “He’s cocky, and obnoxious.” Jaehwan is breathing a little heavily, but he’s still too hot, still has more steam to let out. “And a bastard.”

Sanghyuk’s shoulders are shaking with barely contained laughter, and he steps away from Jaehwan, towards the door. Jaehwan feels his composure cracking like the distance between them. “I’ll tell him that.”

Jaehwan knows he’s being childish, but he doesn’t seem to know how to stop. “Do.” He spits, as Sanghyuk leaves, but the door has already swung shut behind him.

 

♭

 

“Should I be scared to approach you today?” Is the first thing Sanghyuk says to him, a few days later, and Jaehwan takes his time to look up from the piano.

“That depends.” His hands slow on the keys as the piece ends, and Jaehwan flicks his eyes up. Sanghyuk is stood leaning over the piano, as he so often does, a small smile on his face. Jaehwan doesn’t frown at it today. “Did you deliver my message to Hakyeon?”

It doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care, yet part of him just won’t let it go. Luckily Sanghyuk doesn’t mind indulging him.

“I did, your highness.”

“And?”

Sanghyuk purses his lips, flicking his chin up and making a kissy sound, _winking_. This time Jaehwan does frown, hoping that his distaste is evident in the creases between his eyebrows. “Bastard.”

Sanghyuk’s face slips back into carefully controlled amusement as he crosses his arms on the piano. “Who? Me or him?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Sanghyuk’s sigh is exasperated, but harmless, and Jaehwan jolts a little as he pushes himself off the piano and comes over to Jaehwan’s side.

“Can I play something? It’ll only be short, if you’ll let me.”

“Oh, I,” Jaehwan didn’t expect that, but can’t really seem to find a fault in it. The restaurant is almost closed, only a few dispersed customers left. Jaehwan can’t see why he shouldn’t be allowed to play. He wants him to. “Of course.”

They swap places, and Sanghyuk shoots him a little smile as he adjusts the stool. It’s not nervous, not quite, but something in it isn’t totally at ease. Jaehwan understands it completely.

Then Sanghyuk’s fingers settle onto the black and white keys, and sound begins to trickle out in pretty little chords. He hears the familiar notes of a song, soft and delicate, but he can’t quite put a name to it.

Jaehwan listens, appreciates, but mostly- he watches. He watches Sanghyuk, sees the way the dimming lights flicker off his dark blue hair; the slight quirk in his brow; teeth digging into pink lips; the sharp yet calm intensity in his eyes as he focusses on the piece. He looks, for lack of better words, beautiful.  

He wonders if this is what Sanghyuk sees when he looks at him.

Eventually, the notes fade out in tandem with the steady pressure Sanghyuk applies on the pedal, and the music comes to a stop. Jaehwan didn’t realise he was holding his breath.

“That was…” His voice is breathless for reasons he doesn’t want to think about, “that was nice. Beautiful, actually.”

Sanghyuk laughs it off, and yet again it’s an action Jaehwan knows way too well. “It’s the only thing I can play.”

“That doesn’t make it any less pretty though.” Jaehwan keeps his voice low as Sanghyuk stands from the piano. They’re only a few inches apart, Jaehwan’s head tilted just enough so, that he can meet Sanghyuk’s eyes.

“Thank you.” Sanghyuk murmurs, and Jaehwan nods. He doesn’t think he’s ever been trapped in a moment as much as he has this one.

Jaehwan feels something, then, soft and warm on the side of his face, angling his head just a little to the side with a confidence Jaehwan himself lacks. It takes everything he has to keep his eyes from slipping shut, from pushing into Sanghyuk’s hand, chasing the warmth.

“Can I?” Sanghyuk whispers. He doesn’t say what, but he doesn’t have to.

“Yes.” Jaehwan can feel himself trembling.

Then Jaehwan falls back a step, hand shooting out to steady himself on the piano as Sanghyuk kisses him. A few errant notes sound out, lilting and high beneath Jaehwan’s clumsy fingers, but there’s no one left in the room to hear them. Jaehwan sighs out, in relief, in happiness, into Sanghyuk’s mouth as his fingers curl on top of the keys and his body relaxes in Sanghyuk’s arms.

He’s gasping, shaking, he can feel it, desperate in a way he never knew he would be. Sanghyuk can feel it too, and Jaehwan’s stomach drops as Sanghyuk smiles against his lips, pressing his amusement into Jaehwan’s skin with a firmness that Jaehwan _craves_.

Then Sanghyuk slips away, and Jaehwan’s eyes slip open, and his fingers slip off the keys.

Sanghyuk brushes his thumb across Jaehwan’s bottom lip, only slightly, only for a second, and then he’s gone, leaving Jaehwan alone with a brand-new melody playing along in his mind. He hasn’t quite learnt it yet, but he finds that now, more than ever, he really, really wants to.

 

♭

 

Jaehwan’s fingers ache with a pleasant sting, so he flexes them out, running them through the air and miming the piece he was just playing. His steps are almost as fast as his fingers against invisible keys as he walks through the corridor, cursing the sweat on his brow as a result of the thick coat he’s in. Outside it’s near freezing, but inside the hotel it’s toeing the edge of too warm, and Jaehwan lets himself grumble because of it, under his breath.

His irritation probably stems from the three-hour shift he has just finished, because as much as he loves to play the beautiful piano, there’s only so much time one can spend, sat, alone, in the same place.

Sanghyuk wasn’t here today. Probably another cause of his sour mood, Jaehwan thinks. And then ignores promptly, when the rosy warmth of his cheeks is no longer from the heating.

Jaehwan wonders where Sanghyuk is, he wants to see him- of course he does. He’s eager to, in fact, even if it’s only for a few minutes. Yet he struggles to focus on this, mind too caught up on what he’ll do, what he’ll say, when Sanghyuk does make himself known again. Jaehwan’s sure it won’t take him long, it hasn’t before, but then maybe that’s exactly why his steps are so rushed.

“Jaehwan!” The shout is faint, yet near enough that Jaehwan doesn’t know if he can pretend to miss it. He doesn’t know if he wants to anyway.

Hence why Jaehwan’s steps falter, just enough to be noticeable, and he turns to meet Sanghyuk’s smiling face, jogging down the corridor towards him.

“Hi.” Sanghyuk soon catches up, and they fall into step beside each other. Jaehwan’s hands clench, unclench, clench, into fists in his pockets. He hopes it’s not visible.

“Why are you clenching your fists?” Sanghyuk asks, laughter bracketing the edges of his words, and Jaehwan winces. Hope does nothing, apparently.

“I’m not.” Dismissal is clearly the only thing he can attempt, but he already knows that Sanghyuk won’t accept it. This time Jaehwan won’t hope for him to. “It’s just cold.”

Sanghyuk smiles, and his laughter is no longer bracketing his words, but overwhelming them. “Yeah, outside maybe.” Jaehwan scowls. Ah. He gives himself a few points for noticing his slip up before Sanghyuk could fully call him out on it, though. “It’s fucking hot in here, actually, but nice try.”

Jaehwan stays quiet, and Sanghyuk laughs even more. “What? Are you nervous?”

“What would I be nervous about?”

“That we kissed.” Jaehwan almost falls flat on his face. “Ring any bells?”

“Obviously.” Jaehwan snaps, and then softer, “who do you think I am. It’s not like I’d just forget.”

“Well, I would hope not.” Sanghyuk says, the teasing lilt still very much present. Jaehwan hates that he can’t blame him for it. “That wouldn’t be the most flattering thing to hear.”

Jaehwan scoffs. “Don’t think you’ll be getting any flattery from me.”

“Really?” Sanghyuk pouts, and Jaehwan stares at him with wide, yet unimpressed, eyes. “And here I thought you’d recognise my brilliance.”

“Brilliance?” Jaehwan laughs, and something in his stomach is comfortably warm at the way he’s able to play along with Sanghyuk, nerves mostly forgotten. “We only kissed. Once.” Jaehwan considers adding ‘ _for not that long, unfortunately_ ’, but he’s not going to push it.

“Fine, my brilliance as a kisser, then.”

“Okay,” Jaehwan says, eyes bright and lips curling up at the edges, “you’re not twelve, so I won’t be rating your skills as a ‘kisser’. Also, what- do you want me to thank you?” Sanghyuk shrugs, jokingly, and Jaehwan grins. “Fine, next time get down on my knees and beg you to accept my gratitude. Maybe I’ll even suck your dick whilst I’m at it.”

Sanghyuk splutters, choking on his own amusement, and Jaehwan couldn’t be happier. He feels probably a little too smug, but he can’t be bothered to check himself. “What?” Jaehwan laughs, brightly, and Sanghyuk squints at him, mostly recovered. “Something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Sanghyuk shakes his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they reach the door. “I just don’t think you should be talking about twelve year olds and sucking dick in the same sentence.”

Jaehwan would hit him if his hands weren’t still clenched in his pockets.

“Now it’s fucking cold.” Jaehwan grits out as they step outside, shoulders hunching up as the cold air hits him, breath already fizzling out in little clouds in front of his face. He regrets complaining about the earlier heat of the hotel, and wonders if he’ll become one with his scarf if he buries himself any deeper in it.

There’s silence between them for a few moments, only the occasional thrumming of engines whizzing past. Jaehwan heaves out a sigh, and immediately wishes he could take it back, considering all the heat it took with it. He gets lost in the sparkling of the few stars above his head, but his mouth falls open on a goodbye when he remembers Sanghyuk, still stood next to him.

Before he can turn to face him, Jaehwan feels a surprisingly warm hand sliding through his hair, softly gripping the back of his head, and Jaehwan breathes a little quicker, shivering at the way his stomach drops. Then, it changes, and he’s yanked forward, burning hot lips pressed against his own, hard.

But the warmth is gone again, quickly, too quickly, and Jaehwan blinks once at Sanghyuk, lips tingling for more reasons than just the cold.

“Night.” Sanghyuk grins, and then he too is gone. Jaehwan stays, stood, alone, breaths just that little bit more rushed, as the heat parts from him once again. 

 

♭

 

Jaehwan doesn’t usually think much as he walks home.

The time is always nearing on midnight, sky black and pavement under his feet sparkling, dim streetlights reflecting off the puddles. His footsteps would be loud, but are softened by the water covered road, droplets splashing across the bottom of his trousers in his attempt to get home as quickly as possible. It’s late, and late means dark, and dark could mean any number of things that Jaehwan would rather not face alone.

He stuffs his hands, freezing, into his pockets, and watches as his breath crystallises in the air in front of him. The warm clouds fizzle away as he brushes past them, each clipped exhale leaving him colder than the last.

He never sees anyone. He puts it up to a combination of the late hour and the crap weather. He never sees anyone, and he’s grateful for it, which is why his steps are just that little bit faster, breathes that much more rushed, in response to the two people walking down the road behind him.

He spotted them as he turned the last corner, and the one before that, and before that. It probably means nothing, after all, he can’t expect to be the only person that ever has business late at night. But their constant presence leaves his nerves frayed, muscles jumpy, heart heavier in his chest.

Of course, he can’t be certain that they’re following him. They’re most likely not, because why would they be? Yet his response to them is so deeply ingrained in his being that he can’t fight it, can’t slow his steps until he turns another corner- and sees his apartment building up ahead. He’s relieved, but he hasn’t quite made it yet.

He goes to continue forward, to get inside, but a hand closing around his arm stops him in his tracks. He’s shocked, frozen in his place, a scream jumping out of his throat as he spins around to see the person holding him. His scream dies before it escapes his mouth when he sees Sanghyuk stood in front of him.

“Sanghyuk,” Jaehwan gasps, voice breathless on effort and fear, “what-” Jaehwan catches himself yet again, swallowing the words back down when he sees Hakyeon, stepping out of the shadows, just a few feet behind Sanghyuk. “Why- why is he here?”

Jaehwan’s eyes flick back and forth between them, full of too much nervous adrenaline to settle on just one place. His heart stutters in his chest a little- because he never thought he’d be this scared of them, of _Sanghyuk_.

It’s Sanghyuk who speaks first. “Jaehwan, we-”

“No.” Jaehwan interrupts. He doesn’t know what Sanghyuk’s going to say, but he finds he doesn’t want to. Not in this situation, like this, when his nerves are this frayed. “No, I’m not doing this now. Tell me tomorrow.” He shakes Sanghyuk’s arm off, and is relieved when he actually let’s go.

“What’s ‘this’?” Sanghyuk calls after him, but Jaehwan is already talking quick steps away.

“I’ll find out tomorrow.” He shouts back over his shoulder, trying to keep his pace at a normal speed. He’s so close.

Then he hears footsteps, and feels it again, a hand tight around his arm, spinning him back around with more force than before. Jaehwan tenses, looking up at Sanghyuk- and there’s something on his face, a look, that Jaehwan doesn’t like.

“Jaehwan.” There’s something deeper hiding behind Sanghyuk’s words this time- darker, and Jaehwan feels his throat dry up.

“Sanghyuk, let me go.” He yanks free again, and watches Sanghyuk’s arm as it drops back to his side. He tries to think of something to say, or do, or think- but he can’t, so he doesn’t. He turns, leaves, and he can’t hear anyone following him, at least.  

Jaehwan can feel every part of himself trembling as he makes his way up to his apartment, fragile bones clacking together beneath his skin. He keeps his mind purposefully blank, empty, in a last weak attempt to stay calm, at least until he gets inside his apartment.

His apartment building is silent, it’s late after all, and Jaehwan winces as his keys chime in his shaking hands. He never knew the click of the lock could be so loud. His heart is still thudding in his chest, and Jaehwan can’t imagine it stopping, in this moment. The steady, perhaps slightly erratic, pounding of his heart is almost calming, however, when it plays along with the heavy sounds of feet against the floor-

Jaehwan was wrong. He can imagine his heart stopping, since it freezes abruptly in his chest when he looks over his shoulder, and sees Sanghyuk and Hakyeon running down the corridor behind him- towards him.

Jaehwan feels faint, like the breath has been punched straight out of his chest. Somehow his limbs manage to work on autopilot in his absence, and he falls through his door and into his apartment. It doesn’t calm his as much as he’d hoped it would ten minutes earlier.  

He spins on his heel as quickly as he can manage, palms flattening against the door, about to slam it shut when a hand shoots out, holding it open. Jaehwan sobs.

“Go away, go away, _please_ ,” his words are choppy, yet fluid, tied together by the watery tears welling up in Jaehwan’s eyes, trapped in his throat. He’s shaking so much, he’s surprised he’s still standing.

He can hear Sanghyuk saying something, through the door, slow and calm. It’s along the lines of ‘Jaehwan, it’s me, it’s only me, please-’. He sounds like he’s trying to sooth a cornered animal. Jaehwan blanches when he realises that’s exactly what he is.

Eventually, his legs and arms give out in tandem, and Jaehwan goes flying back onto the floor with the force of the door swinging open. The carpet is thin and worn against his back, but Jaehwan doesn’t spend much time contemplating it, pushing himself up and shuffling back on the floor by his elbows. He has nowhere to go, but he can’t seem stop himself.

Sanghyuk and Hakyeon both step inside, looming in his doorway with a presence so thick that Jaehwan feels as though he’s drowning in it.

Sanghyuk sighs, “you could have been a bit more careful.” The look he gives Hakyeon is pointed, sharp, but Hakyeon only shrugs. Jaehwan wishes he could draw upon his calm confidence, but he doubts he could manage it even if the situation wasn’t as it is.

Jaehwan panics, nerves jittery and unsettled as Sanghyuk walks over to him, grabbing onto his arms and lifting him up off the floor. Jaehwan just about manages to find his footing, but stays somewhat limp in Sanghyuk’s hold, leaning back against the hands locked tight around his wrists. He doesn’t know if he’s trying to dislodge them, or simply keep as far away from Sanghyuk as possible. Either one serves him the same amount: it doesn’t.

“What the fuck, Sanghyuk?” Jaehwan chokes out, and it would be a growl if he wasn’t so terrified.

“Please, if you’d just calm down, then-”

Jaehwan scoffs, “I’ll just go ahead and do that then.” The venom coating his words is sharp enough that it poisons both him and Sanghyuk alike. 

Sanghyuk sighs again, and Jaehwan thinks he sounds awfully defeated, for someone who’s ripping Jaehwan’s composure apart at the seams. He loosens his hold a little, though, just enough so that Jaehwan can yank his hands free. He narrowly avoids falling back onto the floor, but this time he manages to stabilise himself.

The silence is loud in a way Jaehwan didn’t know was possible, so he keeps his voice low.

“Leave.”

“Jaehwan,”

“I- don’t. Don’t talk to me. I really don’t want to see either of you right now.” Jaehwan’s voice is thick with emotion, he just doesn’t know which one. It’s enough to leave him feeling drained, empty.

Sanghyuk doesn’t seem as willing to give up as Jaehwan needs him to be. “Can we at least just explain-”

“No.” Jaehwan scoffs, disbelieving. Sanghyuk’s eyebrows furrow, slightly, but Jaehwan finds he doesn’t have the capacity to care. Not like he usually would. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say, not now. I don’t owe you anything- either of you.” He turns his icy stare to Hakyeon, “fuck, I don’t even _know_ you.”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes, and Jaehwan rears back, but Sanghyuk intervenes before they can get lost in another argument entirely.

“Jaehwan, we really do just want to talk to you.”

 _Oh_ , Jaehwan refuses to accept that. “Why like this then? Why would you follow me home, why would you grab me in the middle of the street? You almost knocked my _fucking_ door down.” Jaehwan demands the answers to these questions and so many more, but Sanghyuk just stares at him blankly. Maybe there’s a little bit of guilt there, but Jaehwan isn’t interested. Then again, maybe he’s just finding what he wants to see. He softens his voice though, regardless. “Surely you must know what that looks like?”

Sanghyuk heaves out a breath, and Jaehwan knows he’s won, if only by a little. “I know and you’re right. I get that you’re confused, but-”

“ _Confused_?” Jaehwan feels a tad hysterical, and judging from the way Sanghyuk’s looking at him, it shows. “I’m not confused, Sanghyuk, I’m _scared_.” Despite the circumstances, Jaehwan still feels the familiar prickle of embarrassment, scratching at the inside of his skin.

Sanghyuk frowns at this. “Ah.” He goes quiet, and Jaehwan heaves out a sigh of his own, torn between the remnants of his fear and a newfound exasperation.

“Ah.” Jaehwan repeats, drably.

And then, his legs can’t hold him up anymore, and Jaehwan slumps down onto his sofa, arms hanging almost limply at his sides. He manages to lift one a few inches, to gesture to the other chairs. There’s something on Sanghyuk’s face as he watches Jaehwan, something that Jaehwan can’t read. He’s not sure he wants to.

“Are you letting us explain now?” Hakyeon asks, uncaring if Jaehwan’s ever heard it. It’s his voice, the way he sits on the edge of the chair, one leg crossed over the other- it’s prim, dignified in a way that gets on Jaehwan’s nerves. Only today, it doesn’t.    

“Yeah.” Jaehwan breathes- “yes,” -too tired by half for whatever conversation they’re about to have. “Talk.”

Sanghyuk sighs and sits down too. “Just- before we do, we didn’t mean to scare you Jaehwan, I-” _Ah_. Jaehwan nods a little. So that’s what’s bothering Sanghyuk. He finds he doesn’t feel overly sympathetic, all things considered. Hakyeon, however, is decidedly less so than even Jaehwan.

“Enough of that.” He scoffs over him, “you’re not dumb, Sanghyuk, we both knew what this would look like.”

Sanghyuk scowls, and Jaehwan does too, annoyed that he’s agreeing with Hakyeon of all people.

“Anyway,” Hakyeon sighs, breezily, “so to get to the point. We have a proposition-”

“If you say ‘of sorts’, Hakyeon, I’m-”

Hakyeon pauses, then, mouth still open upon words Sanghyuk didn’t give him the chance to say. He takes a deep breath, and he looks like he- he’s _pouting_. Jaehwan wishes he had even a semblance of an idea what’s going on.

“Sanghyuk.” Hakyeon’s eyes are closed now, hands clenched until they’re white in his lap, “we’ve talked about this.”

“Sorry,” Sanghyuk laughs, albeit weakly, and, if anything, Jaehwan feels even more confused than he did before, “carry on.”

"We have a proposition. For you.” Hakyeon nods at him, once, as if it wasn’t obvious who he was addressing.

Jaehwan blinks, and then again when they don’t make a move to continue. “…Which is?”

“I run a group, of sorts,” Hakyeon shoots a quick glare at Sanghyuk, “and we’d like you to join us.”

“What group?” Jaehwan feels annoyance nip at the edges of his composure. “We’re never going to get anywhere if you keep talking so cryptically.” He inhales more shakily than he would like. “Can you please just tell me what’s going on?” Jaehwan can feel himself cracking, steadily, so he turns to Sanghyuk. “Sanghyuk, please.”  

Sanghyuk gulps, but straightens up in his seat a little. “It’s a group,” at Jaehwan’s frown, he quickly continues, “we’re paid to collect information on people. Usually we’re commissioned by someone, but sometimes we decide to access information ourselves and then see who’s interested, and-”

“Wait,” Jaehwan cuts in, and Sanghyuk sucks in a short breath. Jaehwan thinks he can feel a headache forming. “Slow down. So you collect information on people?” Sanghyuk nods, “I don’t get it- what people?”

“Important people.” Hakyeon interjects, and oh, Jaehwan thinks he’s starting to catch on. “People pay us to collect information- well, dirt, on people. The latter is more common.” Hakyeon concedes. “Sort of like an information broker.”

“Just illegal, right?” Jaehwan interrupts, more tired than he’s felt in a long time. He expected more of a reaction to his words than a pair of clipped nods, but then again, it would be unlikely considering the subject matter. If Jaehwan’s correct, which apparently, he is- then something like this is the least of their problems.

“Yes.” Hakyeon smiles a little, but it’s brittle. “Just illegal.”

“Great.” Jaehwan mutters, and Sanghyuk starts bouncing his leg. “Who does this involve? Just you two, or?”

“A few other people.” Sanghyuk answers, still unsettled. Jaehwan takes that as a sign of bad things to come.

“And you want me to join you?” Jaehwan sighs, chest heaving with the strain of it. “How, how could I? And why?”

Sanghyuk’s mouth pops open upon an answer Jaehwan knows he’s not going to like, but Hakyeon beats him to it yet again.

"There's certain information that's quite a bit more- challenging, to obtain.”

“In what way?”

Hakyeon shrugs. “It can be in any number of ways. Often people store things on personal computers, at least things they want to hide.” Jaehwan thinks he’s following along, but then he can’t tell if he is actually processing anything at all. “Obviously these are kept in their houses, estates, somewhere like that.”

“So how do I-”

“Let me finish.” Hakyeon smiles, and Jaehwan grinds his teeth together. “You’re nothing to do with the actual retrieval, unless you have a hidden background in hacking into encoded files.”

Jaehwan frowns. “Who the fuck casually has a background in that?”

“I do.” Hakyeon states, and Sanghyuk too a half second later, the tinges of his earlier sheepishness seeping away. Probably since Jaehwan is sat down, listening, relatively quietly. So far.

“Well,” Jaehwan huffs, a little erratically, then, drily, “I don’t. Not on my salary, at least.” Sanghyuk smiles for a second, and it’s an approval that Jaehwan didn’t ask for, didn’t _think_ he needed.

“We have everything covered, completely.” Hakyeon continues, and Jaehwan drags his gaze back over to him. “But it’s been increasingly harder lately to think of news ways to get _into_ places.”

“Yes?” Jaehwan crosses his arms over his chest, and he can’t quite tell if it’s meant to be nonchalant or defensive. “But can’t you just break in or something? Is that not what you’ve been doing up until now?”

Hakyeon waves his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, we have a guy for that.” He sounds almost- _tired_ , and a petty little part of Jaehwan wonders why Hakyeon feels entitled enough to feel such a way. “But it’s too risky.”

“Shouldn’t you be used to that?”

“No.” Hakyeon snaps, and Jaehwan sinks back in his chair, confused. Hakyeon takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to be used to risks like that.”

“Are you scared?” Jaehwan whispers, and oh, _oh_ , Hakyeon’s eyes narrow just enough for him to take notice of it.

“Not personally.” Hakyeon says, low, and Jaehwan yet again has to admit it’s not what he expected. He doesn’t quite know what Hakyeon means, either, but he doesn’t think Hakyeon would take kindly to it if he asked.

“…You-”

“So anyway.” Hakyeon tramples over Jaehwan’s words with a sharp voice, a flick of his wrist. “I don’t want to do that anymore. No more break-ins.”

“So how are you supposed to get in?” Jaehwan mutters, tired all over again, “I’m pretty sure you know already.”

“You.” Sanghyuk is already looking at him when his head snaps around, and Jaehwan feels something cold and unpleasant trickle down his spine, and his back arches of the chair a little, to escape it. He’s not sure if he can.

“Unsurprisingly the people we’re hired to get information on are mostly rich,” Hakyeon says, unaffected, snatching up the lead again, “and important. That means plenty of parties, gatherings- whatever you want to call them. Like in all the films.” Hakyeon’s voice is dismissive, but the way his eyes focus in on Jaehwan is painfully sharp. “And that requires entertainment, something respectable, but showy. Like a-”

“Like a pianist.” Jaehwan says, voice gone soft. His stomach drops now that he finally understands what they’re asking of him, and his throat goes dry, vocal chords scratching together like sandpaper. “That’s why you want me?”

"Well, yes, but-”

“You want me to be your- in, then.” Jaehwan finds himself laughing, and it’s a humourless little thing.

“On a surface level, yes, that’s what it would be.” Hakyeon seems tenser than before. “But we wouldn’t just- just _leave_ you. You’d be a part of it as much as Sanghyuk is, as I am.”

Jaehwan shrugs, shakes his head. “And what does that mean? How can I be part of something that I don’t even understand?”

Sanghyuk shuffles forward in his seat, hands clenched tight atop his knees. “We’d teach you.” He’s supposed to sound confident, Jaehwan’s sure, but it comes out rushed- desperate. “You’d join us, and come live with us, and we’d teach you how it all works. No part of this is solo, we all work together, _are_ together. You’d be a part of all that too.”

Jaehwan shrinks in on himself. They sound so sure, so certain that this is what’s happening, that it’ll all work out, that it’s what Jaehwan _wants_. Jaehwan isn’t so sure that it is, and his voice quietens with it. “What if I don’t want to?”

Both Sanghyuk and Hakyeon inhale, suddenly, sharply, and Jaehwan knows it’s not the answer they wanted to hear. Currently, though, he doesn’t think he has any other to give.

“Jaehwan,” Sanghyuk really is pleading now, and Jaehwan can’t bring himself to look at him. “why won’t you- I don’t,” He stops then, collects himself, remembers what he knows about Jaehwan. Jaehwan thinks he knows a little too much, and he doesn’t exactly know when that happened. “What’s stopping you?”

“I- just, why would-” Jaehwan digs his nails into his hands, but the sting doesn’t help as it usually would. “Why would I? Why would I just drop everything and join you? Even if it wasn’t illegal, I- I don’t know you, really. I don’t know you that much at all.”

“Jaehwan…” Sanghyuk sighs, and Jaehwan can’t tell how he means it. It seems a little like he doesn’t know what to say either, and it’s bothering him, so it bothers Jaehwan too. He curses himself, over and over and over, and wonders why he finds it easier to prioritise others’ comfort over his own.

“What would be in it for me?” Jaehwan whispers, and hopes that this time it’s a little easier to answer, that it’ll lessen the creases of stress between Sanghyuk’s eyebrows. Jaehwan can’t see himself, but if Sanghyuk looks as distressed as he does, currently- Jaehwan’s sure that he looks wretched. He wonders if that’s why Sanghyuk has that air of wariness that he hasn’t harboured around Jaehwan in weeks.

“I- you’d- _shit.”_ Sanghyuk chokes, and Jaehwan winces. Not easier, then.

“Money, would be one thing.” Hakyeon clears his throat, and he sounds slightly less domineering than he did before. Jaehwan doesn’t know whether or not to appreciate the effort. “Not that you’re having a particularly hard time with that currently, but you’d definitely be earning a lot more.”  

The answer is lacking the warmth Jaehwan wants, and needs, if he’s honest, to even consider what he’s being asked. Money is one thing, but it’s just not enough.

“I don’t need any more.” Jaehwan tries to strengthen his voice, but the exhaustion staining the edges keeps it from advancing to anything beyond tired. “I don’t want any more. Not like this.”

“Jaehwan…” Sanghyuk’s warns, _warns_ , and Jaehwan flinches back. He’s confused, but then Hakyeon leans forward in his seat, and Jaehwan doesn’t think Sanghyuk’s pre-emptive measure was quite pre-emptive enough. 

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive.” Jaehwan doubts that. “I know all of this is a lot to throw on someone. But you don’t have a choice.”

Jaehwan’s breath catches in his throat, clogging up his airways, and he chokes out a “Sorry?” as Sanghyuk hisses out a “ _Hakyeon_.”

“Fine, you do have a choice. But you wouldn’t be able to stay around here knowing about what we do without being a part of it.”

“Wouldn’t be able to?” Jaehwan laughs, incredulous. Hot anger bubbles up, sizzling against his skin, and Jaehwan finds it a lot nicer to deal with than fear, despite the way it burns him.

“No.” Hakyeon smiles, and there’s nothing pleasant about it. “I wouldn’t allow you to stay around here now, knowing what we do. You may think I’m overreacting, but to be totally honest, that would be letting you off easy.”

Jaehwan can’t tell if the threat is empty or not, and really can’t think of how to respond, but luckily, he doesn’t have to, as Sanghyuk sits up straight in his seat, his frown deepening. “Hakyeon-”

“Sanghyuk. You promised you wouldn’t fight with me on this.” Sanghyuk looks as though he’s going to argue, but he settles back down, and a little part of Jaehwan panics, spiralling. He didn’t ask to face this, and he definitely doesn’t want to do it alone. It doesn’t seem like he has a choice, though, and isn’t that hopelessly fitting.

“I-” Jaehwan shrugs, shaking his head in little jerky motions. “I can’t. You say I have a choice, partially at least. But I can’t move- I can’t _afford_ to move. Even if I wanted to.”

Hakyeon shrugs too, and Jaehwan bites down hard on his bottom lip as it begins to tremble. “Well,” Hakyeon huffs, play casual, but in reality his voice is terse, tight with the assurance of closing the deal. “If that’s the case, then I think we know what your choice is.” Jaehwan hates him, he _hates_ him, so much so that hot, angry tears prickle up in his eyes, and his chest heaves upon breathes that are too heavy to be worth it. He refuses to look at Sanghyuk.

“Can you-” Jaehwan whispers, but he falters, tongue catching on the words, tangling them up until they’re meaningless, escaping him in clipped little breathes instead. “Get out. Please get out.” He curses how weak, how _useless_ , his voice sounds in this moment. 

Hakyeon stands, briskly, a tight smile on his face. It disappears as he looks down at Jaehwan, though. Good. “We’ll…be in touch.” Don’t, Jaehwan thinks, but can’t will himself to say it.

Then, they leave, Hakyeon with barely a glance and Sanghyuk, with a squeeze to his shoulder that he’s guessing is meant to be reassuring. And Jaehwan stays: stays sat staring blankly forward, alone, trapped in a decision he didn’t even make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⋆ for reference, in my head everyone pretty much looks like they did in the closer era  
> ⋆ this whole chapter is mainly just setting shit up so fucking HOPEFULLY it will get more interesting but anyway  
> ⋆ thanks for reading


End file.
